


Same As It Ever Was

by romanticalgirl



Category: British Actor RPF, Hornblower RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're here. In LA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same As It Ever Was

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to the dear [](http://ladyhamilton.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://ladyhamilton.livejournal.com/)**ladyhamilton**
> 
> Originally posted 8-3-06

“Hey.”

Ioan stands at the door in something like shock and stares at Jamie as if he’s never seen him before. Jamie shifts uncomfortably – _Not quite the reaction I expected_ \- and smiles nervously, lifting his hand in a half-hearted wave.

“Hey.”

He repeats the word, thinking maybe he said it wrong the last time. Or maybe he got it all wrong, and he’s not supposed to be here. He’s Crimea and Portugal and a few frantic tumbles in London, but this is L.A. This is Hollywood, and maybe the fact that Ioan is staring at him as if he’s got two heads - _Now is not the time for adolescent sniggering, even if it’s likely the only thing getting you through this, Bamber_ \- or has suddenly shown up without warning, which, okay, he _has_ , maybe…maybe that means he needs to get his arse back on a plane to London or at least get back to his hotel and drink his fucking minibar dry to bury this pain that’s starting rather somewhere near his heart.

Ioan swallows and blinks. “Hey.” They stand there a few moments longer, and he really should just turn around and go, as this can only get more awkward, he’s pretty sure. “You’re here. In…you’re in L.A.”

“I am.”

Ioan nods and exhales shakily. “Um.”

More pain courses through Jamie’s chest and he manages a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I thought…Didn’t think. Sorry.” He turns to go, then stops as Ioan’s long fingers curl around his arm, pressing deep into the skin. He stays still, swallowing hard.

“C-come in.”

He shakes his head. He has pride. Any second now he’ll find it. “No. It’s…I’m sorry, I made a mistake.”

“Please, Jamie. Come in.” He changes his grip on Jamie’s arm, fingers more gentle, thumb rubbing over Jamie’s shirt. “You just took me by surprise.” Jamie turns his head to look at him, and Ioan smiles, actually looking happy. “You’re in L.A.”

He nods and manages a weak smile. “I am.” He shifts and faces Ioan, another smile threatening as he lifts the arm Ioan’s not still holding and brushes light fingers over the dark hair on Ioan’s chin. “What’s this?”

“Shut up, wanker.”

His eyebrows shoot up and he shakes his head, the threat of a laugh - _Nervous laughter, you weak bastard, how can you let him bring you this low?_ \- bubbling in his chest. “Is that a…a…dare I say it? Beard?”

“Shut up.” Ioan smiles in earnest and so brightly and he’s really far too beautiful to be real. “Fucker. Come inside.”

_Ha, there’s a loaded offer…seriously, you weren’t going to think this way. Haven’t seen him in months, almost a year. Stop it._

He follows Ioan in and smiles at the mess. Boxes litter the place. Fairly new, if he remembers correctly - _And of course you do, you stupid girl_ \- and Ioan’s always been a dubious housekeeper at best. “And what am I do to inside? Tidy up?”

Ioan turns and shakes his head. He copies Jamie’s posture and shoves his hands in his pockets. Jamie’s doing it so he won’t touch without permission. Ioan’s likely doing it because he thinks it makes him look casual, relaxed, sexy. Which it does. _Fuck._

“No. I don’t want you to tidy up.” His voice is deep and thick and a flare of something hits Jamie in the stomach and slides down to his groin. Ioan walks toward him slowly and Jamie backs across the hallway until he’s against the wall. Ioan stops just before he’s too close and tilts his head, his eyes dark. “You surprised me.”

“D-did I?” His voice hitches and he licks his lips, his body reacting as the movement catches Ioan’s eyes.

“You did.” Ioan leans in and his breath smells like coffee – black with sugar. His finger traces Jamie’s collar bone through his t-shirt. “Didn’t know you were in town.”

“Impulse.”

“Oh.” Ioan’s eyebrow raises and his gaze lifts from Jamie’s mouth to his eyes. “I like impulses.”

Jamie licks his lips and then he’s tasting Ioan, still dark and warm and sweet like coffee, and something more, an under layer of whiskey and cigarettes and hunger and need. Ioan kisses with his whole body – tongue sliding over Jamie’s, knee pushing between Jamie’s legs, hips and body and hands touching, stroking. Their mouths fit together and Jamie can’t help but groan softly as Ioan’s hand slides up to fist in his hair and hold him, his head turning just enough to deepen the kiss.

The beard feels strange – soft and rough, tickling and abrading – and it’s a new sensation wrapped in one he knows so well. Like kissing Ioan and kissing someone else all at once. Jamie groans again and shifts, his hips racking against Ioan’s as they thrust forward. Ioan moves his mouth to Jamie’s neck and licks at it, nibbling his way along the column of flesh. The sensations are strange there too, and he’s finding it hard to keep himself from grabbing Ioan’s hips and thrusting purposefully against him, so he doesn’t, sinking his fingers into loose sweats and pulling him closer.

Ioan groans this time and finds Jamie’s mouth again, their bodies grinding together. “Fuck, Jamie,” he pants between kisses, his hands tugging at Jamie’s shirt, seeking the warm flesh beneath it. “God.”

His voice paired with the rough scrape of hair and the knowing touch of his hands is almost too much and Jamie shoves him away, panting roughly. Jamie’s shirt is untucked, rucked up above his jeans so there’s a stretch of skin showing, and Ioan looks disheveled and confused, his mouth open and his cock jutting determinedly against his sweats. “Glad to see me?” Jamie manages, licking his lips and fighting to control the heaving of his chest.

Ioan laughs, thick and rich and full of emotion. He reaches out as Jamie steps closer again and brushes his fingers over the swell of Jamie’s erection. “Mutually so.”

“You’re not harboring any upcoming stars or starlets in your bedroom, are you?” He keeps walking, and Ioan keeps backing up, the door to his bedroom not that far away. “No one whose arse I’m going to have to kick out of bed?”

Ioan tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, shrugging out of his sweats as he backs up. He’s naked and gorgeous and all the breath Jamie’d managed to get back leaves him in a shuddering exhale. “Missed you.”

Jamie’s voice is gruff, telling in all the emotion that slips through in his tone. “Did you?”

Ioan smiles and it’s strange behind the beard, the mustache, but it’s still Ioan. Still impish and happy until it slides into that sleek, sexy curve of a grin. He steps forward and tugs Jamie’s shirt over his head, one hand leaving off that to unfasten Jamie’s jeans. “C’mere. Let me show you how much.”

**

The bar is crowded and noisy, worse than the restaurant, but Jamie’s waiting, and he hates sitting at a table alone. So he leans on the bar and sips his drink, glancing around at the Hollywood types surrounding him. He always feels out of place in America, despite spending summers in Detroit and the surrounding areas, but Hollywood makes it worse. He feels out of synch, off a step.

But after the last round of the BBC, he’s ready to be somewhere other than England. He needs something new, something fresh, and he’s not going to get that in the host of medical dramas, rural country comedies or Masterpiece Theatre productions. So he’s here, and Ioan’s here, or will be soon enough.

The afternoon is a pleasant haze of sensation in the back of his mind. It had been a while since they’d been together, so they spent nearly an hour just touching and teasing, Ioan showing him that the beard does have its advantages, and Jamie showing him that, given how ticklish certain parts of him are, it has a disadvantage or two as well.

They found a middle ground with Jamie buried in Ioan’s arse and Ioan’s hand around his own cock, his head thrown back and the beard just tickling Jamie’s hairline as he sucked and licked and the sweaty flesh of Ioan’s throat until Ioan came hard and fast and hot, body clenching tight around Jamie and bringing him off after a few more strokes.

Then Ioan had a meeting, and Jamie had a meeting, so they’d showered and dressed and parted ways with a promise of dinner and drinks at Jamie’s hotel. His meeting had ended two hours ago, so he’d changed and lazed around a bit before coming down to the bar and ordering and sipping, and wondering what the hell he’s going to do in L.A.

The tap on his shoulder brings his gaze up and he takes in the tight shirt and even tighter breasts and the smooth expanse of tanned California skin. “Y…” He stops as he looks past her. “Holy…fuck.” The last word fades, gets stuck in his throat.

It’s Ioan. He’d know him anywhere, even with the beard, but it’s more than that. His dark hair is tousled and curled, looking natural and, for all the world, like it does when he’s just been fucked. Even more though, the beard is no longer tinged its natural red, instead it’s black to match his hair. The whole effect changes his look completely.

He looks older, darker. Not just in actuality, but there’s a sense of swaggering danger, a liquid ease. A sensuality.

“The other member of your party is here, sir.”

“Thank you.” It’s bad form, he knows, to ignore the svelte blonde - _she must be blonde, they’re all blonde_ \- in favor of Ioan, but half the restaurant and most of the bar are staring at him. “Thank you.”

Jamie tosses back the rest of his drink and slides off his stool. Ioan smiles as he seems him, and Jamie knows things have gone well. There’s a flare of pleasure and a twinge of jealousy, but with Ioan, pleasure is always infectious. “Hey.”

“Hey.” They shake hands and share a back-slapping hug. They’re old friends, contact is expected. Besides, Ioan’s practically undressing Jamie with his eyes, so a hug seems discreet. “Champagne’s in order, I take it?”

Ioan drops his voice so only Jamie can hear. “Save it for after dinner.” His hand grazes Jamie’s thigh and Jamie’s glad he opted for the black trousers, as the thin fabric doesn’t disguise Ioan’s touch. “Celebrate somewhere private.”

Jamie’s breath is tight in his chest and he nods, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. They sit at their table, small by even Hollywood standards, perfect for making and breaking deals, for an illicit tête-à-tête, for Jamie to return Ioan’s touch, scraping his nail along the rough denim of Ioan’s jeans. “Well?”

Ioan orders a drink and Jamie repeats his order from the bar. The waitress leaves and Jamie waits a beat before asking again.

“Well?”

“You like the beard?” There’s a promise in the question and Jamie reaches out and tugs at the dark strands. Even dyed from their strange reddish color, they’re soft, like thick silk on swollen skin. “Yes.”

“Good, because I’m stuck with it for about a year or so at this point.”

“Signed?”

“On the dotted line.” Ioan smiles at the waitress as she returns and sets their drinks on the table. Jamie notes the appreciative gleam in Ioan’s eyes, the predatory one in hers. Ioan takes a sip, still watching her over the rim of his glass, his eyes hot.

Jamie takes a sip of his own drink. “Congratulations.”

Ioan turns his head, and his eyes sweep over Jamie – black slacks, black button down shirt. The heat in Ioan’s eyes flares hotter, and a slow, hungry grin curves his mouth. He leans in, his hand beneath the table skirting over Jamie’s thigh, fingers trailing up over the swell of Jamie’s erection. “Nice hotel, Bamber.”

“Good enough.”

“Does it have room service?”

He swallows and he’s suddenly no longer begrudging how much the hotel is costing him. “Yeah. I believe it does.”

Ioan makes short work of his drink and slides a couple of bills on the table. “Let’s go find out for sure, hm?”

**

Jamie’s room is small and dark, even when he snaps on the bedside lamp. Ioan closes the door behind them and leans against it. Jamie settles against the window, the whole room between them. “So, Lancelot.”

“Lancelot.” Ioan slides the lock home on the door and moves into the room. His walk is sinuous and languid and his eyes never leave Jamie’s face. “Different from Mallory though. I don’t even get to kiss the girl.”

“Pity, that.” Jamie watches Ioan as he approaches the bed and sits down on the edge of it, leaning back enough to look at Jamie. “A sight more promising than the last venture you did for Disney.”

“We’ve sworn never to mention that,” Ioan reminds him with a smile as he lays back, hand settling on the flat of his stomach, the other tucked under his head, still turned to watch Jamie. “Remember?”

“Remember a lot of things,” Jamie assures him as he moves over to the bed and sits on it, his hand between the two of them, fingers barely grazing Ioan’s side. “Like what you promised me this afternoon.”

“Did I promise you something?” Ioan’s eyebrow is all insolence as it rises, his smile sending a frission of heat along Jamie’s spine. He turns on his side, shifting and sliding so he’s looking down at Jamie, tracing circles around the buttons of Jamie’s shirt. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.” He leans in and brushes the hint of a kiss over Jamie’s lips. “What’d I promise?”

“You know,” Jamie assures him with a smile of his own, his eyes closing as Ioan begins undoing the buttons of his shirt. Ioan sucks in a little breath, no doubt surprised by Jamie’s lack of undershirt, given that he constantly teases him about wearing them. But the feel of Ioan’s fingers on his skin, warm from the afternoon sun, is worth it. Worth the fire in Ioan’s eyes. “You know what you promised.”

“Do I?” Ioan shakes his head and leans in again, feathering another kiss over Jamie’s parted lips. “I plead innocence.”

“Innocence?” Jamie’s surprised at the heat in the word as it rolls of his tongue. “What’s that?”

Ioan pulls Jamie’s shirt from his trousers and lays it open, baring his chest. His fingers free from their duties with Jamie’s shirt, Ioan sets them to work over Jamie’s nipples, teasing them until they tighten beneath his touch. “I _was_ innocent once.”

“I’m sure you were.” He closes his eyes and enjoys the sensation, gasping as Ioan bends his head and replaces his fingertip with his tongue, tracing Jamie’s nipple with the wet tip. “Just…just been a long time.”

“Mmm.” The reverberations dance on Jamie’s skin and his hips roll upward on instinct. Ioan chuckles in response, the noise and vibration forcing Jamie’s hips upward again as Ioan smoothes a hand over the front of Jamie’s trousers. “Long time. Too long a time.”

Jamie doesn’t try to puzzle out Ioan’s meaning, finds himself unable to as Ioan’s hand slides down Jamie’s zipper, slipping inside his trousers. The thin cotton of his boxer briefs does nothing to damper the heat that Ioan’s touch provokes, the steady burn of wanting that pulses in Jamie’s blood.

Ioan shifts and straddles one of Jamie’s legs, his cock hard against Jamie’s thigh. Fisting his hands in the comforter, Jamie watches as Ioan undoes his belt, tugging the leather back before unfastening the button to completely open Jamie’s fly. He pulls the fabric back and traces the bulge of Jamie’s erection through the dark grey boxer briefs, his eyes on his fingers before he lifts his gaze to Jamie’s.

“Too long since I’ve tasted you, Jamie.” He leans down and presses a kiss to the flesh of Jamie’s abdomen just above the waistband of his boxer-briefs. “Do you want me to taste you?”

Jamie groans, lost for words, though his hips rock upward in encouragement. Ioan huffs a soft laugh and slides back, easing Jamie’s clothes down his legs and to the floor. He settles back between Jamie’s spread legs and runs his fingers along Jamie’s thighs up toward the jut of his hip bone. “So lovely.”

“Ioan…” They’ve had this discussion before, neither of them thinking they deserve the description, both of them aware that they make their living being exactly that.

“So lovely,” Ioan reiterates as he leans in, beard brushing Jamie’s inner thigh as he pauses for a kiss. “Like a work of…” He pauses and licks the head of Jamie’s cock, smiling as it pulses beneath his attention. “Art.”

“Ioan.” This time it’s not a warning so much as a plea, and Jamie finds the dark tangle of Ioan’s hair with his hand in the same instant Ioan’s mouth closes around him. He inhales sharply, his hand tightening as Ioan’s mouth does, tugging at the thick strands as Ioan’s mouth sucks and tugs at his cock, his tongue hard against the vein, pushing at the heavy thrum of Jamie’s blood.

Jamie rocks upward, matching the push and pull of Ioan’s mouth with his own thrusts, his breathing rough and desperate as one of Ioan’s hands continues to play over Jamie’s nipple, teasing it until it aches with hardness. The other spends time at the base of Jamie’s prick, wrapped firmly around it until the wet suction coats his fingers and he slides it down to Jamie’s opening, pushing against the tight ring of muscle.

“Oh… _fuck_.” Jamie’s hips rise off the bed, the threat of release just beneath his skin. He fumbles as well as he can for the toiletry bag beside the bed, pulling it onto the bed and spilling the contents, lube and condoms and various and sundry littered on the bedspread, disappearing into the valleys made by Jamie’s grasping hands.

Pulling back, Ioan shudders then resumes his attentions, nibbling and kissing the inside of Jamie’s thighs as he applies the barest hint of pressure to Jamie’s body. Jamie’s hand finally closes around the lube and he urges it down toward Ioan, his body nearly shattering as the rough scrape of beard abrades the tender skin of his inner thigh. Ioan ignores the lube and moves back to Jamie’s cock, the prickle of unfamiliar hair sending shockwaves through Jamie’s flesh as Ioan tugs back Jamie’s foreskin once more, closing his mouth around him again.

“Ioan…” Jamie’s panting softly, unable to stop the heave of his chest, the surging wave of need that’s rising in him. He forces himself to release Ioan’s hair from his fist, stroking it instead, matching the steady rhythm of Ioan’s mouth on him. Ioan moans around him and Jamie catches his breath, letting it stumble free as he comes, Ioan’s mouth constricting around him.

Ioan pulls away slowly, leaving Jamie gasping and shaking on the bed as he straightens. Leaning in, he licks his lips before stealing a kiss from Jamie’s. He leans back, smiling with a mixture of satisfaction and desire. He finds the lube and opens it, watching as the drop slowly falls from the bottle to land on his finger. “Taste just like I remember, Jamie.”

Jamie shudders again, biting his lower lip as he watches Ioan rub the lube against his finger with his thumb. “C-could taste you. If you want.”

Ioan cocks an eyebrow and shrugs, setting the lube down and unfastening his jeans. He slides off the bed and slips out of them, his eyes never leaving Jamie. “You could.” He returns to the bed, tugging his shirt off at the last moment, sliding against Jamie again, naked and warm and hard. “But I don’t think that’s what either of us wants.” He kisses Jamie, tongue and teeth and beard and Jamie’s slowly getting used to the sensation. Pulling back, Ioan reaches for a condom and slides it on. Grabbing the lube, he opens it and pours a healthy measure of lube into his palm. “Do you?”

Exhaling roughly, Jamie manages to shake his head. Ioan’s hand wraps around his cock and begins stroking it, the length of it glistening after a few quick strokes and Jamie licks his lips. Ioan doesn’t do this that often, and Jamie can feel the arousal pooling in his stomach again. “How…how do you want me?”

Ioan slides slick fingers over Jamie’s body, pressing against the muscle then pulling away. His voice, when he speaks, is thick and barely in control, rough with need. “On your knees. H-hands and knees.”

Jamie complies, turning over onto his stomach and closing his eyes, letting himself just feel the soft brush of Ioan’s fingers, the tingle of his flesh after Ioan brushes a bearded kiss along his back. He measures his breathing, careful and slow, until Ioan’s finger breaches him, pushing slow and steady. Jamie sucks in an unsteady breath as the firm length of Ioan’s finger buried deep inside him curves slightly, applying pressure to what seems like every nerve ending Jamie possesses.

“Oh… _fuck_.”

Ioan gives an unsteady laugh as his finger starts moving, stretching, loosening. “You’re repeating yourself, Bamber.”

“Ioan…”

Ioan’s voice is like molasses, pouring warm and slow and sweet over Jamie’s skin. “It’s been a long time, Jamie. Want to make it good. So good. Want to fill you up.”

Jamie’s arms tremble and he rocks back against Ioan’s finger, doing his best to rein in the need to set a faster pace. Ioan’s right, it’s been a long time, and even though it will be good, regardless, like this – _slow, agonizingly, torturously, fucking slow_ \- is amazing. “Ioan…”

“More, Jamie?” He asks the words softly, and Jamie, eyes still closed, forgets about the beard and the Hollywood glow that’s settled on Ioan’s skin, making him slightly different, not quite the same, and _feels_ Ioan. Just Ioan.

“Yes. Please, yes.”

Ioan slides another finger in and Jamie groans, bowing his head down toward the mattress. It takes a moment to catch his breath as Ioan continues the slow thrusting, most of it escaping him in quick heavy breaths and reedy sighs. He can feel the brush of Ioan’s cock against his leg occasionally, the wet streak of arousal it paints across the skin of his inner thigh, sensitive from the brush with Ioan’s beard.

Ioan’s free hand is splayed over Jamie’s hip, fingers digging into the flesh, palm smooth against the jut of the hipbone. “Good?”

Jamie nods and tries to speak, giving up helplessly as Ioan slips another finger inside him, never losing a stroke. Jamie’s arms tremble and he tries to form Ioan’s name, barely managing the first syllable past his lips as Ioan’s speed changes, altering his stroke and his depth and his…”Oh, _FUCK_.”

“Good?” Ioan’s laugh is washed out with his heavy breathing as Jamie jerks beneath him. The heat that had been pooled in Jamie’s stomach has gravitated to his cock again, and he can feel himself getting hard, harder as Ioan slips his fingers free and presses the tip of his cock to Jamie’s body. It’s wet and slick and - _oh, yes_ \- inside him and Jamie trembles as Ioan stills, sheathed in Jamie’s flesh.

“We…we forgot to order champagne.”

Ioan leans down and presses his face to Jamie’s neck, the beard and his tongue warring to displace each other in Jamie’s senses. Wet and warm and heavy and light and scratchy and soft and then Ioan’s moving inside him and everything else fades away.

“Much…much ra-rather…”

Jamie can tell Ioan’s close as he begins to move, thrusting hard and deep inside Jamie. There’s no longer any teasing promise, just the hard press of flesh. Jamie pushes back against it, wanting Ioan deeper, wanting more.

“…celebrate…”

Jamie closes his eyes and reaches back, hand curving around his cock. He’s not completely hard, but rocking with Ioan’s rhythm is easier, counterbalanced, as he strokes himself. They move in unison, neither thinking, both feeling.

“Like…like…li…li…like this.”

Ioan comes and Jamie echoes his gasp, both of them shuddering together. Jamie sinks down onto the bed, Ioan’s weight not all that heavy on top of him. Ioan shifts just enough that he’s not directly on top of Jamie, but the rise and fall of his breathing is as steady and rhythmic as Jamie’s own. His beard tickles Jamie’s shoulder as he leans in and kisses him.

Jamie smiles and turns his head, unable to see more than the shadow of dark, tangled curls. “Hey.”

Ioan lifts his head and slants a sleepy gaze in Jamie’s direction. “Hmm?”

“You still want dinner?”

Ioan shakes his head and pulls away long enough to dispose of the condom. He curls back into Jamie and plants another kiss on a flat expanse of skin. “Maybe later.”

“With champagne?”

“We’ll save the champagne,” Ioan assures him with a yawn, “for when you ink your deal.”

“Who says I’m going to find a deal?”

Ioan shifts again and arches an eyebrow, staring down at Jamie with a look that refuses to accept dissention. “I do. Good enough?”

Jamie nods, smiling. “Yeah. Good enough.”

Chuckling, Ioan snuggles back down, letting his hand slide back over Jamie’s hip, fingers brushing Jamie’s semi-erect cock. “Hmph.” Jamie can feel Ioan’s smile against his skin. “’M better than just _good_ , surely.”

Jamie rolls over and traces the line of Ioan’s beard. Different, but the same. Always the same - _always Ioan_. “A little better.”

Ioan’s eyebrow arches. “Little?”

Leaning in, Jamie kisses him long and slow and languid and full of promise. “You’re never going to be satisfied, no matter what I say, are you?”

“Dunno, Bamber. I bet you could satisfy me if you try.” He runs his hand down to Jamie’s cock once more, stroking the semi-erect flesh. “You’ll just have to try really, really hard.”  



End file.
